Dream Catcher
by Phaerie
Summary: [oneshot] Ginny clearly had yet to comprehend that she was standing in her kitchen in nothing but her underwear with Harry staring at her wideeyed and crimsonfaced. Fate could be so cruel at times.


A/N: I really should be working on the next chapter of Snapshots right now, but my muse is being persistent and won't let me type anything related to Snapshots until I get this out. So annoying..ah, well. This is just gonna be a short little one-shot. Random fluff.  
  
Disclaimer: Phaerie doesn't own Ginny, or Harry, or the Burrow, or anything else you may recognize. She might not even own the plot. But she asks that you remember that anything is possible. O_o'  
  
-:-Dream Catcher-:-  
  
It was by some odd and unexpected work of Fate that Molly Weasley accidentally slipped one of Harry Potter's freshly laundered shirts in with the rest of Ginny Weasley's clothes. The situation became even stranger when a thoroughly exhausted-by-way-of-Quidditch Ginny stumbled into her room late that night and went to pull out one of her nightgowns from the laundry basket on her bed only to find that she was holding Harry's shirt. Too tired to actually note that it was Harry's shirt, she had changed into it, fallen upon the bed precariously, and drifted off to Dream-a-Dream Land without a second thought.  
  
It wasn't until around 2 in the morning that she would come to regret her earlier actions. Well, her outlook on the situation ,as it would appear afterward, really depended on whether or not she was still denying her feelings for one boy-who-lived. If the case be that she was still floating down the Nile River, then she would very likely look back on the night's events and curse herself to Tortuga for ever being so stupid and pray that it was all just a dream. But, if it were that she had accepted that she was head-over-heels, jumping-over-the-moon, I-want-you-I-need-you- oh-baby-oh-baby in love with him, then she would very much like the outcome of what was about to happen as she made her way clumsily down the winding stairs of the Burrow, tripping on the third to last step and tumbling her way into the kitchen to be confronted by afore mentioned love-of-life.  
  
Now we're all wondering just what Harry is doing down in the Weasley's kitchen at 2 in the morning, not to mention Ginny. It just so happened that they had both been awoken from the ever-haunting nightmares that plagued their dreams night after night and had both had the sudden urge to go down to the kitchen for some liquid refreshment to relieve their dry throats (yet more freaky ways for Fate to interfere in their as-of-yet non-existent love-lives).  
  
"Ow.." Ginny mumbled as she rubbed the sore spot on her head as she attempted to stand back up.  
  
"Ginny?" Harry asked tentatively as he squinted against the darkness trying to make out the small figure sprawled on the floor in front of him. He stepped forward anxiously to catch her as she lost her balance and almost fell to the floor again. It was then that he took notice of her attire. "Gin, is that my shirt?"  
  
Ginny looked up at him in her half-awake state then down at what she was wearing, "So it would seem.."  
  
"Why are you wearing my shirt?"  
  
"Why are you up so late?"  
  
"I asked first."  
  
"And I asked second. Order really has no concept if you think about it."  
  
"Well, we're at a bit of a stand-still then, aren't we?"  
  
"We wouldn't be if you answered my question."  
  
"The same goes for you."  
  
"Answer mine and then I'll answer yours."  
  
"How come I have to answer yours? Why can't you answer mine?"  
  
"Because, if you don't, I'll tell Ron you raped me."  
  
"WHAT!?"  
  
"Relax Harry, I was only joking..but you will regret not answering my question, I can assure you of that."  
  
"How is it that you're more aggressive when you're only half-awake?"  
  
"You're avoiding the question, Harry."  
  
"Yes, I am."  
  
And this is where the word 'whipped' would come into play were they a couple. Ginny stuck out her bottom lip and looked at him with sad eyes.  
  
"Oh, fine, I'll tell you."  
  
Ginny smirked triumphantly, "Works every time."  
  
Harry glared at her with less force than he had originally meant to, which was probably due to the fact that most of his attention was being spent imprinting the image of Ginny Weasley in his shirt - hair mussed and eyes out of focus, yet still the most beautiful creature he'd ever laid eyes on - in his mind. "I had a nightmare," he told her quietly while looking down at the table ashamedly.  
  
"Really? What a coincidence so did I!" Ginny said happily, and then sobered as she realized just what it was that he was implying, "Do you want to talk about it?"  
  
Harry sighed, "I suppose I should be used to it by now, I mean, I have one almost every night," here Harry laughed bitterly.  
  
"Harry," Ginny whispered in a quavering voice, "Don't say that.." Harry looked back up at her and winced as he saw the tears that brimmed her fear-filled eyes.  
  
"Sorry..it's just, how am I supposed to stay sane if I keep having dreams about Voldemort killing every one I care about?" Harry asked in a defeated sort of tone.  
  
"Well, you could always try a dream catcher."  
  
"A what?"  
  
"You know, a dream catcher. The Native Americans believed that if you slept under one, you'd only have good dreams because it would act as a sort of filter and keep away all the bad dreams."  
  
"That sounds like just what I need.."  
  
"Well, I have one, if you want to borrow it, but I've found that people make much better dream catchers."  
  
"People?"  
  
Ginny nodded, "After my first year, when I kept having nightmares about the Chamber, Bill stayed here for as long as Mum would let him before she practically kicked him out and told him to get back to Egypt. He was my dream catcher. Whenever I had a nightmare, I'd just slip up to his room then he'd hug me and talk to me until I went back to sleep. When he left, he gave me a real dream catcher, said he hoped it would work just the same. And it does, for the most part."  
  
"For the most part?"  
  
"Well, your dreams are a reflection of your subconscious, and so long as I was optimistic about it, the nightmares would stay away, but a Native American legend can't keep them all out, and neither can spells cast on it."  
  
"So how is it that Bill could?"  
  
"I'm not sure exactly. I think it had something to do with just knowing that he was right beside me, that he wouldn't let anything hurt me, that I was safe."  
  
"Are you sure you're only half-awake? You seem to be awfully intelligent and retrospective at the moment."  
  
"Are you implying that I'm unintelligent and unretrospective the rest of the time?"  
  
"N-no..it's just - "  
  
"Harry. Relax. I think I actually am smarter when I'm half-asleep, don't know why though.."  
  
"So, what about you?"  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"I answered your question, now you answer mine."  
  
"Oh that, right-o," Ginny cleared her throat and gave Harry a sheepish smile, "What was the question again?"  
  
"Why are you wearing my shirt?"  
  
"Oh, I found it with the rest of my laundry. Mum must've put it there by mistake..it's quite comfortable you know," Ginny drawled out lazily as she made her way to the cupboard and pulled out a glass. She then went to sit at the table and poured her some tea from the pitcher in the center of said table that sat atop a well-placed heating charm to keep it nice and hot. Ginny sipped at her tea quietly and her eyes dropped considerably as she began to doze off again. She was jolted back awake (or half-awake rather) by the slight thud as Harry sat his own glass down on the table and took a seat across from her. It was at this moment - though she would never find out why exactly, it might have something to do with the fact that she was a bit slow when fully awake, so much couldn't be said about her psyche in its current state - that she realized she was wearing Harry's shirt and that Harry was the one sitting in front of her. Funny how you process the information upon seeing it, but you don't actually register it until the most inopportune moment, isn't it? Well, Fate seemed to find it amusing.  
  
"Harry!" she exclaimed in a voice that clearly wasn't an inside- voice. Luckily, no one in the household seemed to have been disturbed.  
  
"Ginny!" Harry mocked her in a tone that was a bit quieter while giving her a puzzled look.  
  
Ginny stood up and started to unbutton her shirt. "G-Gin - what the bloody hell are you doing?" Harry asked abashedly as she removed his shirt. He was having a hard time making up his mind if he was relieved that she had been wearing a bra and panties under the shirt, or utterly disappointed. Ginny thrust the shirt at him and gave him an apologetic look. "Gin?"  
  
"It's your shirt isn't it? Sorry about not giving it back when I found it, I was really tired.." Ginny clearly had yet to comprehend that she was standing in her kitchen in nothing but her underwear with Harry staring at her wide-eyed and crimson-faced. Fate could be so cruel at times.  
  
"Yes, well. You can return it tomorrow if you'd like," Harry stuttered, pushing the shirt she still held back to her.  
  
"No, it's alright, here," Ginny shoved it into his hands.  
  
"Ginny, really. You can have the shirt, it's quite alright, think of it as an early birthday present, or late, or..whatever. You look better in it than I do anyways.." Harry's face darkened another shade when it hit him that he'd said that last part aloud. Ginny simply shrugged and put the shirt back on, buttoning it back up sleepily. When she was about halfway done, she yawned widely and her eyes fluttered closed as she fell back asleep. And, due to the laws of gravity, she began her descent once again to the kitchen floor. Quidditch reflexes kicking in, Harry wrapped his arms around her waist to support her. He gulped and looked up at the ceiling taking deep, calming breaths when he saw that he had a perfect view down the front of Ginny's shirt.  
  
"Ginny?" Harry asked desperately shaking her slightly, "Gin, wake up. Oh, come on!" It would seem that Fate was having a field day with this as Ginny was out cold and didn't look as though she'd be waking anytime soon. Harry sighed in defeat and looped one of his arms under the bend of Ginny's knees. Leaving the other one securely at her waist, he hoisted her up and let her head fall on his shoulder while he made his way up the staircase to Ginny's room being uber-cautious not to look down Ginny's shirt again.  
  
He was just depositing her back in her bed when her eyes opened groggily and her hand clasped his shirt tightly, preventing him from standing back up. "Harry, don't leave..please. The nightmares, they'll come back.." she mumbled.  
  
"Gin - "  
  
"You be my dream catcher and I'll be yours, deal?"  
  
Harry bit his lip in thought before smiling down at her, "Deal."  
  
Ginny smiled brilliantly before sliding over and pulling him down onto the bed. "You're that eager to get me in your bed Ms. Weasley?" Harry asked her teasingly.  
  
Ginny smirked and settled her head down on his shoulder as he lay back and wrapped his arm around her waist again. Harry received no reply as Ginny was already back in Dream-a-Dream Land, so Harry placed his glasses on the bedside table and soon joined her as they both dwelled in a place free of terrorizing Dark Lords, his evil minions, and a devastating war. It would be well past noon before either one of them stirred form their blissful sleep, and then it would only be because of a rampaging brother out for the boy-who-lived-but-whose-luck-was-just-about-to-run- out's blood. And Fate simply smiled upon its extraordinary work.  
  
A/N: Well, that was fun! Sweet and fluffy. O( ^__^ )o Review, pretty please? Phaerie would be oh-so-appreciative it you did!  
  
B/N: Yes, it was fun. Thanks to ME, Kaseomelette, for beta-ing this lovely one-shot... *blows kisses and gives her best Cinderella-in-the-Walt- Disney-World-Parade wave* Anyway, review. She took the time to write it, you can take the time to review it.  
  
A/N: Oh yeah! THANKS KIKI! ^________^'  
  
~Phaerie 


End file.
